Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

Dark Journey	By : rigby Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2512 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
Title: Dark Journey - Part I
Type: FPS
Author: Vair� (vaire@donnesys.com)
Rating: NC17

Pairings:
Erestor/Thranduil, Erestor/Lindir, Legolas/Haldir/Syshae(OMC),
Legolas/Haldir/Syshae/Anaria(OFC), Thranduil/Sauron
Warning: non-con, abuse, usual graphic
NC-17 sex
Disclaimer: I worship at the JRRT altar. I
make no claim to any of the characters except Syshae. Lysan owns Anaria and the
Sundancers. I make no money from this, so don�t bother to sue�you�ll only get
hairballs the cat hacked up.

Summary:
Companion story to Nightstar. Read that first or you�ll be very confused from
part III on. This is Legolas� story. It fills in some of the gaps in Nightstar
about what happened to him before and during that tale, and also adds some new
adventures for Legolas, Haldir, and Syshae.
Timeline: Begins with Legolas�
�escape� from his father when he was not quite thirty years old and ends nearly
three years after King Aragorn II Elessar�s death.
Notes: AU. I�ve obviously taken
liberties with Papa Tolkien�s world�such a messing with the twins� birth date
and creating new characters.
Posting: Please ask first.
Feedback: Much appreciated. I enjoy discussing my stories
with others. All flames will be gleefully passed along to the dragons for their
fiery consumption.
Thanks: Many, many, many, many thanks to Lysan. Without
her asking me repeatedly, and poking my muse, and allowing me to use her
Sundancers, this wouldn�t have been written. Love your ideas! Thank you,
m�dear. You are a treasure. Hugs.
Dark Journey � Part I

Third Age, 2026
Tap. Tap. Tap. The sound of Thranduil tapping the
parchment on the arm of his throne was the only sound in the audience chamber.
Lips pursed, the king�s emerald eyes gazed upward. Someone cleared their throat
and shifted their weight. Instantly, the green orbs cut to the culprit,
spearing him as surely as a lance. The unfortunate guard paled to the point
that Erestor thought he might faint. Prior to journeying to Mirkwood to deliver
Elrond�s message, the counselor had thought the stories of Thranduil�s
brutality exaggerated. He no longer held that opinion. The past two days had
made mockery of the idea of mercy or fairness in the woodland elf�s realm.
Thranduil was a tyrant of the worst sort, reveling in his own viciousness and
the suffering of others. After what seemed an eternity, the king shifted his
gaze to Erestor.
�So, Elrond, Lord of Imladris, asks a favor of me and sends
his chief counselor to seek it.� He gestured with the parchment. �Know you what
this says?�
Nodding slightly, Erestor replied in an even voice. �Aye, my
lord.� Thranduil looked as if he was waiting for Erestor to continue, but the
counselor remained silent. He�d dealt with elves like Thranduil before.
Anything he said or did would be misconstrued, twisted, and used against him.
The best course was to say, and do, as little as possible when it was not
necessary. Save influence and action for when they would avail the most.
Those mesmeric eyes insolently raked Erestor head to toe.
�Elrond always had a taste for beauty. Tell me, is your wit as keen as your
face is comely?� Without waiting for an answer, the king rose and, with a curt
gesture for Erestor to follow, strode from the chamber.
Warg farts and orc feces! Erestor cursed Thranduil as he
followed the king, having no choice but to obey. He didn�t want to be alone
with the unpredictable ruler. Thranduil was capable of anything. Erestor didn�t
trust him, especially after his last question.
Two guards threw open the double doors leading to
Thranduil�s private chambers and Erestor cursed again. Not even the
semi-official, and therefore semi-public, small audience hall where he might
have some hope of not being alone with Thranduil. Now, he was sure the king had
some plan in mind. Erestor was equally sure that, whatever it was, he wouldn�t
like it. The doors closed behind him.
Tossing the parchment onto a table, Thranduil crossed to an
ornate mahogany buffet and poured two goblets of red wine. He handed one to
Erestor. �An excellent vintage. The vines in this vineyard supply wine only to
myself. None are allowed to drink it outside my presence.�
Arrogant son of orcs! Overweening, pompous�
�A toast, my dear counselor.�
Erestor broke off mentally cursing Thranduil and waited for
the king to continue.
A wicked smile curved Thranduil�s lips and he stepped behind
Erestor, one hand trailing over the counselor�s raven locks. �To the coming
night,� he finished the circle, coming to stand once again in front of Erestor.
He raised his goblet and Erestor mirrored the action. As the rim touched
Erestor�s lips and the first bit of rich wine entered his mouth, Thranduil
spoke again. �Which you will spend in my bed.�
Erestor choked and barely managed to avoid spewing wine all
over Thranduil. He gaped at the k who who chuckled.
�You seem quite distraught, my luscious counselor. I assure
you it will be a night you shall never forget.�
Furious at Thranduil�s insolence, Erestor spoke before he
thought. �It will never be forgotten, for it will never happen! You may not
simply command me to your bed��
Thranduil sat in a chair and threw leg leg casually over the
arm, deliberately drawing attention to his groin. �Oh, but I can. You are in
Mirkwood, not Imladris, and it is I who rule here, not your kind-hearted
Elrond.� He waved a hand toward the parchment left lying on the buffet. �Elrond
wishes me to send my wife and youngest son to him. Truly, I would account them
of little loss. Amari� is headstrong and of little use to mount. She has given
me naught but one son, and he is worthless�weak and slender, fair as a maiden.
I would have sons who are warriors to serve me, and she delivers me a cowering,
weakling boy. Nothing I have done has served to make him stronger.� Thranduil
paused and studied his wine as he swirled it in the goblet. �Elrond wishes to have
them and I wish them gone.�
Erestor held himself silent. What was the old schemer up to?
�But I am loathe to release them without recompense. Elrond
mentions nothing of this in his missive. To be sure, it is filled with talk of honor
and alliances, but I have none of the former and need not the latter.� The king
took a deep draught of wine. �Ahh, quite good. You must try some, you are too
tense, lirimaer. Such beauty should be filled with willing pan.� n.� His eyes
roamed hungrily over Erestor�s body.
Keep silent, Erestor admonished himself. He is baiting you.
He cannot be serious. Even Thranduil would not presume to force someone of his
standing to submit against their will. It would be rape.
�But you will submit to me willingly, lirimaer.� Thranduil
spoke as if he read Erestor�s thoughts. �If you want what Elrond requests. Give
yourself to me this one night and I shall account myself well paid. But you
must give yourself fully and willingly, and you shall not simply lie pliant when
I mount you.�
Erestor opened his mouth to deny the King�s vile request,
but Thranduil stayed him with an upraised hand. �Ere you give your answer, know
that for which your Lord asks. Oropher!� he called. Instantly Thranduil�s
eldest son, named for his grandsire, materialized from behind a heavy tapestry
hung against one wall. Erestor�s cheeks flamed, knowing the elf had heard
everything spoken in the room, that he knew of Thranduil�s unspeakable desire.
The king�s lust-filled emerald gaze never left Erestor. �Show the counselor to
my queen�s quarters, and those of her son. Allow him to speak to them
privately, but return him before the glass empties.� He set an hourglass on its
other side and sand began to run through to the bottom half. �Know, Erestor, that
should you choose to deny me, you will be safely escorted to the borders of
Mirkwood, but I shall entertain no more requests regarding those you seek�from
anyone.�
#
Fifty minutes later Erestor stood before the doors of
Thranduil�s private chambers once more. He felt faint and his stomach
threatened nausea, both from what he had just discovered and what he was about
to do. Amari�. Legolas. Their terrified faces and battered bodies haunted him.
He couldn�t abandon them to Thranduil. Erestor remembered Amari� from Lindon.
Proud and bold, she was the daughter of a lord of that fair land. To see her
cowed, begging for her son�s life� Imagining what she must have suffered at
Thranduil�s hands� And Legolas. He had yet to see thirty coronar. He was an
elfling, only a little more than halfway to his majority, but his haunted eyes
were those of an ancient.
Erestor�s thoughts turned to Thranduil and what the king
wanted of him. He shuddered, remembering the words. ��you must give yourself
fully and willingly, and you shall not simply lie pliant when I mount you.�
Could he do that? Could he lie with the golden-haired king and not reveal his
reluctance, not shudder at the touch of those long, graceful fingers? Could he
allow the king to claim him? Erestor was no stranger to the coupling of two
males, even if it was merely for sex, but this�this was different from that.
Could he fake his willing participation? He had to. The life of a noble n�ri
and an innocent elfling in exchange for one night of humiliation� Erestor
sighed. He would pay thrice-damned, orc-spawned Thranduil�s price.
At Erestor�s nod, Oropher gestured and the guards opened the
doors. Gathering dignity about him like a cloak, Erestor walked into the room.
He would do this vile thing, and never speak of it to a soul. He would do this
vile thing and he would not give Thranduil the satisfaction of breaking down.
Thranduil was still sprawled in the chair exactly as Erestor
had left him. The only change in the room was the level in the wine bottle,
which had dropped considerably, and the king�s eyes, which glittered more
brightly. Golden hair gleamed in the light of a multitude of candles as
Thranduil turned his head to look directly at Erestor.
Silence stretched and hung heavy in the air. Thranduil
occupied himself with running his eyes slowly over Erestor�s body, until the
counselor felt violated and branded just from their touch. He swallowed hard,
determined to outwait the king. Thranduil reached out and poured himself more
wine. Unlike before, he didn�t offer Erestor any. Raising the goblet, he
sipped, then licked the droplets provocatively from his lips. Erestor swallowed
hard again, unsure how to name the feeling that coursed through him. Thranduil
closed his eyes and tilted his head back, baring his neck in a long, elegant
line. Erestor found himself unable to look away, as mesmerized as a mouse by a
cat.
�You are without honor.� Horrified, Erestor realized the
words came from his own mouth.
Slowly, like a cat coming awake, Thranduil raised his head
and opened his eyes. A small smile curled the corners of his mouth. �I have
already told you that, lirimaer.�
Silence descended again. The king went back to sipping his
wine. Erestor fought the urge to hurl angry accusations at the self-indulgent,
sadistic ruler, kill him, and then flee. How far would he get? He likely
wouldn�t even get more than one good insult uttered before Thranduil ordered
him gagged or thrown into Mirkwood�s notorious dungeons alongside Amari� and
Legolas. As for killing the king, Oropher stood not four feet behind Erestor
and he was armed whereas the counselor was not. This was one more abuse, one
more humiliation, Erestor realized. Thranduil wanted him to speak first, to
admit his decision freely, not in answer to questioning.
�I will do this thing you demand.�
Thranduil looked am anm and raised a golden eyebrow.
�Willingly,� Erestor forced the words from his mouth. �I
give myself to you fully and willingly for this one night.�
�Excellent, I knew you were intelligent and would see��
�With one condition.� Erestor heard Oropher stir restlessly
behind him, but continued. �You shall not lay hand on, nor speak to, nor
communicate in any manner with either Amari� or Legolas again.�
Thranduil seemed to be mildly amused. �You do not approve of
my treatment of them? No matter. How chivalrous of you to seek to protect them
at your own expense. Very well, here is my counter. I will do this thing you
ask, but all I would have done to them shall be visited upon you.�
Erestor realized he was lost. He had underestimated
Thranduil�s cunning. Briefly, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Valar
protect me! he prayed. �Ai. It shall be as you say, my lord.�
�Master. Until Anor rises, you will address me as Master
each time you speak to me.�
Valar! this would be the most humiliating experience of his
life. Never, Erestor vowed, would he breathe a word of this to any other!
�Master.�
�You will not speak unless I ask you a question or give you
permission. Do you understand?�
�Yes, master.�
�How do you give yourself to me?�
�I�� A vision of Legolas huddled in a dark cell, his slender
body bruised and bloody, flashed through Erestor�s mind. The words came easily.
�Fully and willingly, master.�
�Excellent, lirimaer. We have our accord.� Thranduil
refilled his wineglass. �Strip.� The word was a cold command.
Erestor�s eyes widened. Surely, he couldn�t mean! not
with Oropher� Unable to sop himself, he
glanced back at Thranduil�s eldest. Oropher�s expression was impassive.
�Surely you do not think me fool enough to dismiss my guard?
Come now, enough of this stalling. I begin to think you renege on our accord,
lirimaer. Strip, I would see what is mine this night.�
Near trembling with humiliation, Erestor ds hes he was bid,
untying the laces of his tunic and leggings, and pulling them from his body,
along with his boots. As he straightened back up, he pulled sections of his
hair forward over both shoulders to cloak as much of his body as possible from
Thranduil�s hungry gaze. He met the king�s stare boldly.
�Oropher.�
Movement behind him, then Erestor felt Oropher reach forward
and draw his hair and gather it back into a tail. He concentrated on not
moving, on submitting to whatever was done to him, but he flushed with shame.
Not only was Thranduil humiliating him, he was doubling the shame by having
Oropher remain. Erestor barely bit back a protest.
Thranduil�s perfect lips curved in a small, mean smile. He
knew Erestor�s shame and enjoyed it. �You will hide nothing from me, hold
nothing back from me. Tonight, you are mine. Is that clear?�
Swallowing hard, Erestor nodded. �Ai, Master.� He fixed an
image of Amari�s bruised body and frightened eyes in his mind. Erestor had
once courted her, many years before in Lindon. To see her so abused and
unloved, she who should be cherished.� Ai, he would do whatever Thranduil
demanded. He would offer his body up to the king�s pleasure.
�Turn around slowly. I would see all that is mine.�
Bile in his throat, Erestor obeyed. His eyes met Oropher�s
briefly, but there was no mercy there. Was he as sadistic as his father,
Erestor wondered fleetingly, or was he sickened and merely trying to survive?
�Come to me on your knees, lirimaer.�
Unable to suppress a small shiver, Erestor sank gracefully
to his knees and crawled on them to the golden-haired beauty that ruled
Mirkwood.
�Hands clasped behind your back,� Thranduil ordered.
Erestor complied, the heat of humiliation burning his
cheeks. Still, he met Thranduil�s eyes boldly.
Thranduil stroked one hand down Erestor�s cheek. �Sure fire.
Such spirit. Shall I break you of that tonight, lirimaer? Shall I make you
truly mine?�
When orcs rule the world, and the One Ring is found again,
and Nan-tasarion rises again! Erestor thought angrily. You will never own my
f�a. Never. Though you will know my hr�a�
�Unlace my breeches and bring me to release.�
Erestor started to loose his hands but, quick as a snake,
Thranduil leaned forward and grabbed his heavy tail of hair, yanking it back
viciously. Tears sprang to Erestor�s eyes.
�With your teeth, lirimaer,� the king hissed. �I want your
nose in my crotch. I want to feel yoot bot breath and your wet tongue on my
cock. I want to see those sweet lips wrapped around me as I thrust down your
throat and spill my seed for you to swallow. Do it well. Pleasure me greatly
lirimaer, lest our accord be rendered null.�
Amari�. Legolas. Erestor repeated their names over and over
as he bent to his task. Revealed, Thranduil�s cock lay flaccid. Erestor knew he
had his work cut out for him, but what caused him to shiver in fear was the
size. Limp, the king was near six inches and of considerable girth. Hard,
Erestor feared to imagine, since he would be the one the king plundered that
night. It would be his body that sheathed that cock, his body that bore the
impaling stabs of the king�s lust, his body that would be in agony on the
morrow. Amari�. Legolas. Amari�. Legolas. Amari�. Legolas. Erestor�s lips
closed over Thranduil�s limp cock. Amari�. Legolas. He closed his eyes and
started to lick and suck�
#
�My lord Erestor, the King commands your presence and
instructs that you be ready to depart for Imladris anon.�
The voice disturbed the cobwebs clouding Erestor�s mind. His
eyes blinked half open. The grey light of early morning filled the room.
Morning. Early. The king. What king? Elrond was not a king.
�Your pardon, my lord, but King Thranduil was most insistent
that you attend him immediately.�
Thranduil! The remaining cobwebs fled and Erestor�s eyes
snapped open. He started to throw the covers back and sit up, but stopped and
groaned loudly as a wave of pain radiated from his buttocks outward through his
entire body. Thranduil. The night before.
�My lord, is aught amiss?�
Taking several shallow breaths, Erestor concentrated on not
moving and not letting the groan escalate into a scream. The pain receded
gradually. �Nay, inform the King I shall attend him shortly.�
�Ai, my lord.� The door shut behind the messenger.
Damn that orc-spawned Thranduil to the pits of Angband!
Moaning, Erestor managed to draw the covers aside and push himself up into a
sitting position so he could survey his body. He winced. Thranduil had left no
part untouched�or uninjured. Bruises and bite marks covered his torso and arms
and legs. Dried semen crusted the backs of his legs and his inner thighs. Raw
abrasions circled his wrists and ankles where the king had bound him with
coarse rope. The backs of his hands and tops of his feet were red and puffy
from the hot wax that the king applied and then ripped off. Erestor could feel
large welts on his back and buttocks, hot and burning, where Thranduil whipped
him with a wide leather strap. Likewise, the bottoms of his feet were tender
from a whipping. Both sides of his neck hurt and Erestor knew they bore large,
dark, ugly marks that would take days to fade and would be nigh impossible to
hide�the king�s brand. His anus was a circle of fiery agony. How many times had
Thranduil�s massive cock taken him? The memory of the pain each time the
golden-haired sadist thrust into him brought forth another moan. Erestor eyed
his penis carefully. It, too, ached. A thin angry red line about the base of it
and his scrotum showed where Thranduil had tied a leather cord to prevent
Erestor from finding his release. When had he removed it? Erestor wondered. Son
of a Balrog! Whelp of Ungoliant! No curse was enough to describe Thranduil�s
vileness.
Many of the night�s event were clear in Erestor�s memory:
the degrading acts Thranduil demanded, the shame of Oropher�s silent
observation, Erestor�s own pleas for mercy. And Erestor�s pleas for more. That
was the most humiliating part of all. Despite everything, Thranduil had aroused
Erestor, and Erestor had begged for release. But the end of the night was a
blur of unrelenting pain and overwhelming fatigue. In the end, Erestor had not
been able to do more than lie passively, his strength gone, as the king brought
himself to full hardness yet again and shoved his cock mercilessly into
Erestor�s ravaged ass. He must have blacked out. Erestor didn�t remember
anything after that. Surely Thranduil had ceased his torment then?
Regardless, Erestor had to rise and clean himself and dress.
And he must do it quickly, lest he anger the unpredictable King. Gritting his
teeth to prevent himself from screaming, Erestor managed to rise and shuffle
toward a stand that held a pitcher of water and a basin. At least Thranduil had
returned him to his own chamber, however Erestor bet that the king had him
carried naked through the halls to display his humiliation. Well, the night was
over, and the bargain was sealed. He was Elrond�s chief counselor and a warrior
in his own rightowinowing weakness was not an option. He would be the epitome
of dignity. Steeling himself against the pain, Erestor reached for the pitcher.
#
�Ah! our sluggard counselor joins us. I trust your tardiness
was due to a night of blissful slumber or, was it, perhaps, the result of a
need to rest after a night of passion?�
Erestor met Thranduil�s gaze evenly, schooling his features
to an expressionless mask. �King Thranduil.� He swore to himself that balrogs
would eat him alive before he responded to Thranduil�s verbal bait.
The king�s face darkened momentarily, but then he swept his
arm in a grand gesture. �Your company awaits.�
Following Thranduil�s outstretched arm, Erestor saw a number
of mounted figures in the courtyard: six guards who had accompanied him from
Imladris, six more wearing Thranduil�s livery, two cloaked and hooded elves.
Amari�. Legolas. He had to make sure. Thranduil was not to be trusted. Stifling
groans of pain, forcing himself to move gracefully, he crosses to stand between
the two. �My lady? Legolas?�
�Ai,� Amari�s voice answered him from within one of the
hoods. �We are both here. The king has not played us false�yet.�
�Then we ride before he has the chance.� Erestor went to the
single riderless horse, but, before he could swing astride, he felt a body
press close behind him.
�I shall long remember this past night, lirimaer.� The
king�s voice whispered in his ear. �Would that I had not bound myself to your
safe leave for I would take much pleasure in keeping your for mine own.� A hand
slid over Erestor�s sore buttocks and between his legs. �You are quite tasty,
lirimaer, and your submission was sweet. In time, you would come to enjoy my
attentions, even need them to breathe.�
�You flatter yourself, Thranduil. Last night was payment. I
took no pleasure in it.�
Thranduil laughed softly. �I know that to be a lie, as do
you. I heard your pleas for more, your pleas for me to mount you and sheathe my
cock in you.�
Spots danced before Erestor�s eyes. Shame flooded him as he
acknowledged the truth of Thranduil�s words and he felt his abused cock twitch.
No! Thranduil was toying with him. Another sadistic game. They would be away
anon. Biting his tongue until it bled to keep back a scream of pain, he swung
aboard his horse. Erestor inclined his head to the King of Mirkwood. �My thanks
for your hospitality, KThraThranduil. May we meet again.� And I can sink a
sword in your belly, Erestor added silently.
Emerald eyes flooded with lust. �I eagerly anticipate that
meeting when we shall renew our relations, counselor.�
When the One Ring is found, Erestor swore to himself. Never
would he return to Mirkwood or surrender to Thranduil�s sadistic games again.
Never. With a curt gesture to the others, he turned his horse and rode through
the gates. The journey would be agony, as abused as his body was, but doubtless
that was Thranduil�s intent in making them depart so soon.
#
Urging his horse forward, Erestor drew up beside Amari�.
�Now that the Mirkwood guards have turned back, you need no longer hide
yourself in that cloak and hood.�
�I would not have you see me thus, who once thought me
fair.�
Alarmed, Erestor reached out and grabbed her horse�s reins,
bringing it to a halt. �I have seen the bruises you bear from Thranduil. Why do
you seek to hide them now?�
The hooded head bowed. ��Tis naught, I��
�Daro! Enough! For three journeys of Anor, you and the
pen-neth have hidden within these cloaks and hoods. I would see you.� Without
waiting for a reply, Erestor pushed Amari�s hood back. A dark, purplish bruise
covered the left cheek and jaw marring the revealed features. Erestor sucked in
his breath sharply. �What is this? When I saw you, this was not present.� An
idea dawned on him. �Thranduil! That kindred of balrogs swore not to lay hand
on you or speak to you again. He dared��
�Nay.� Amari� cut him off. ��Twas not Thranduil, he sent�he
sent his second son, Maglor in his stead. He��
Erestor looked to Legolas. �Pen-neth?� The shrouded figure
hunched in upon himself. �Legolas?�
�Maglor visited him too. He used his fists on us, but he
took care not too injure us too badly that we would not be able to rides.� A
humorless smile twisted her hips. �It seems the king wished us gone that he did
not have to trouble with us further.�
Erestor laid a comforting hand over Amari�s and looked at
the guards. �We camp here tonight. We are beyond Mirkwood�s borders and
Thranduil�s rule, but I want a tight watch set. I do not trust the king�s word.
Melin, see if you can find game for us to eat.� He turned back to Amari�. �A
fire. Hot food. There is a stream here to bathe in. And we will speak.�
Near two hours later, Erestor watched Legolas hesitantly
accept a haunch of roasted rabbit from Gelleth. The young elf appeared half
afraid he would be punished for taking the succulent meat. What had that
Ungoliant spawned Thranduil done to the elfling? Legolas was young, far short
of his majority, yet he displayed none of the normal high-spirits and
playfulness normal for his age, and his eyes, his eyes were those of a battle
weary warrior�tired, dull, bleak, remote. The bruises visible on his face did
nothing to detract from his appearance. He was a handsome young n�r, bordering
on beautiful. Finely boned, long limbed, with rich golden hair obviously
inherited from his sire. Erestor refused to think of Thranduil as Legolas�
father. Fatherhood implied love and care�things all too evidently lacking.
Sitting close beside her son, Amari� was devouring her
portion of the night�s meal. She looked much as Erestor remembered her.
Handsome rather than classically beautiful, but with an arresting cast to the
shape of her eyes and lips. Her rich auburn hair, now clean and dry, shone in
the firelight. Erestor savored the play of light on its rare color. Oft had he
watched her thus in Lindon at feasts and hunting parties. Amari� was a fearless
n�ri, wielding a bow and knives as well as any n�r. Her father raised her as
the son he never had, but for all that, she was soft and feminine and alluring.
Her courage and forthrightness merely added to her appeal. There had been no
lack of suitors, including Erestor himself, for her favor�in Lindon or, later,
in Imladris�yet she had been enthralled with the golden king of Mirkwood.
Thranduil. That loathsome creature. That perverted, foul
spawn of the darkness. Erestor shivered as he remembered the touch of the
king�s long, graceful fingers sliding over his body, the feel of those perfect
red lips and gleaming white teeth leaving their marks on his flesh, the agony
of that engorged cock thrusting into him. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to
rid himself of the images. His body protested, a hundred aches and bruises
still all too new. Erestor closed his eyes and panted shallowly. Pain filled
every minute, especially riding. A smiling, golden crowned face filled his
mind. Thrice damned Thranduil! Three days from his presence and still he
extracted his sick enjoyment. Erestor knew the king was undoubtedly relishing
the aftermath of his actions.
�Will you tell me of it?�
Startled, Erestor looked to his righd sad saw Amari� had
settled down beside him. Glancing across the fire, he saw that Legolas was
asleep, wrapped in his traveling cloak.
�I well know Thranduil�s nature and I have seen the
discomfort you try to hide. I can guess the price of our freedom.�
�Nay, Amari�, �tis not��
Soft fingers against his lips stopped his denial. �I have no
wish to upset you. We shall not speak of this unless you wish, and none shall hear
of it from me. But, whether you claim it or no, I owe you the price of two
lives, and I shall not forget that.� Those same nimble fingers unbraided his
hair and ran through the unbound tresses. �I have dreamed of your dark hair,
your gentle touch, your consideration. I am�I was�� Amari� sighed. �I made a
hideous mistake and it near cost me and my son our lives. I do not believe the
King would have suffered me to live much longer. For years, he has desired to
put me aside and take another who would give him sons of the ilk of his first
wives.� Her voice dropped to a near whisper. �I feared constantly for Legolas.
He is not weak as Thranduil claims, except where his father has made him so. He
fears the King. He has not often been allowed outside, never been allowed to
touch a weapon. Legolas knows of books and lore only what I have told him.�
Erestor�s heart contracted. The pen-neth had seen nigh
thirty coronar, yet he had been denied the chance to mature even to that young
age. Elven children spoke and sang and danced before they were one. They
laughed and frolicked and greeted the world with joy, delighting in learning.
Legolas had been denied all that. Though he was an elfling still, he had been
denied a childhood.
Amari� slid to her knees in front of Erestor. �Long years
ago, you asked for my bond and I refused it. I appreciated not your quiet
strength, you unswerving loyalty and dependability. Of little worth did I
account those things when matched against battle and glory and honors.� Erestor
tried to interrupt her, but she kept on. �One thing alone in Middle Earth holds
meaning for me. Legolas. Though Thranduil sired him, he is not the king�s son.
He is my son. I would ask of you a great thing, Erestor. Should aught befall
me, take him and raise him. Raise him with honor and loyalty. Protect him and
care for him. Vow this to me.�
�What you ask is indeed a great thing, but it is an honor to
bear your trust. Such a vow is not needed, for you shall raise your son, but I
vow this to you nonetheless. Know that if the Valar will, I shall do all that
you ask.�
#
Gelleth, who had taken the last watch, raced into the
clearing where the others were breaking camp and preparing for another day�s
journey. �Yrch!�
Instantly, bedrolls and supplies dropped to the ground as
hands reached for weapons.
�How many?� Onoril, leader of the guards, demanded.
�It is difficult to tell. I did not stay to count all, but I
saw thirty. They follow our trail and they are mounted on wargs, moving fast.�
Thirty. Erestor�s heart sank. Ai, there were six guards plus
himself, and Amari� was no stranger to weapons and bore arms, but thirty�and an
unknown number beyond. �We flee,� he announced. �Leave everything but weapons,
lembas, and water. We are but two days ride from the borders. If we push, we
can beat them there.�
No one objected and within minutes all were mounted and
riding hard along the road to the west. Erestor rode to one side of Legolas,
Amari� to the other. The young elf rode adequately, but he was not an
experienced rider and certainly had never ridden a horse in headlong flight.
The bay stallion he rode, Belarion, would look after him, but Erestor preferred
to take no chances.
Well rested, the elven horses fairly flew along the road.
They should easily outdistance the orcs, even mounted, but Erestor felt uneasy.
Long years had passed since the foul creatures dared to openly come so far west
along the road. Why now and why follow their party? Was this more than it
appeared?
Melin led the way, followed by Erestor, Legolas, and Amari�,
then Gelleth and three other guards. Onoril brought up the rear.
Several leagues along the road, they were forced to slow to
cross a broad, fast-rushing stream. The first four horses cleared the water. As
Gelleth�s horse lunged up the bank on the far side, orcs erupted from the
surrounding woods on both sides of the river, racing toward them, screaming in
their hideous voices and brandishing weapons. There was no time for bows; the
foul creatures were almost on them.
Steel hissed as the elves drew their swords. Gelleth kicked
his horse forward. He, Erestor, Melin, and Amari� turned outward, hacking and
slashing, trying to keep the orcs from reaching the defenseless Legolas, while
the remaining four guards met the charge of the orcs from behind. Steel rang on
steel. Orc screams and warg snarls filled the air. The elves and their mounts
fought silently, the horses lashing out with hooves and teeth to great effect.
A horse�s scream from behind. Erestor risked a quick look.
Onoril�s horse was down, leaving the elf to fight on foot. One of the other
guards was lost from sight, presumably also down. The two remaining guards were
still horsed, but they were sorely pressed. There was no way to fight back
through the crush and reach them. More orcs poured from the trees behind them.
A shout from Amari�. Erestor saw she had taken a wound in
the thigh. Steel flashed in the sunlight as she raised her blade high and
brought it down in a killing stroke that cleaved an orc�s head in two.
Hopeless. The odds were hopeless. Orcs and wargs surrounded
them, leaping in to attack and dodging back. Not like this! Erestor thought
desperately. They had to get clear before the oncoming wave of orcs reached
them.
Erestor swept the heads from two of the creatures, and his
stallion crushed a warg beneath his hooves. Gelleth slew two more, while Melin
finished off the last of three wargs that had attacked on their own. A narrow
opening appeared in the ring of foes surrounding them.
Amari� spun her horse around. �Honor your vow!� she cried to
Erestor as she slapped the flat of her blade against Belarion�s hindquarters
and command the stallion to flee and carry her son to safety. The bay leapt
through the gap before Legolas could do more than scream in protest. Erestor
set heels to his stallion, Celeb�ar, and the big grey plunged after them.
Looking back over his shoulder as the two stallions leaped
clear and raced westward, Erestor saw orcs swarm in to close the gap even as
Amari� turned toward it. Melin and another of the rear guards went down, their
horses screaming as the orcs hacked them apart and the wargs ripped their
bellies open. Screams too, from the downed elves as the orc blades bit into
them. Though he knew it to be folly, Erestor wanted to turn to ride back. He
had a bow; he could take some of the foul creatures down. He could command
Belarion to for for Imladris, turn back, and slay as many as he could. Perhaps
someone else could break free. Even as the thought crossed his mind, Erestor
discarded it. Legolas was an elfling, unarmed and helpless. Belarion would bear
him to Imladris, but what if there was another ambush? What if the prince
abandoned Belarion and turned back, seeking his nana?
Another scream, higher pitched. Amari�. He remembered her
command:�Honor your vow!� There was nothing else he could do. With one
last sorrowful look at the carnage, Erestor faced forwand bnd bent low over
Celeb�ar�s neck, his heart lying heavy and cold in his chest, even as rage
burned through him.
#
Grey rain greeted Erestor and Legolas in Imladris, as if the
valley itself sorrowed with them. Alerted by the border guards, Elrond and
Lindir awaited them on the steps of the Last Homely Home, heedless of the
weather. Their weary mounts stumbled to a stop and Erestor slid to the ground,
his boots squelching in the mud. Trembling, he stood for a moment, leaning
against his mount until the pins and needles in his legs receded, and he felt
capable of moving without falling flat on his face.
Alerted by the border guards who had ridden ahead, a large,
heavily armed party of Elves, was mounting up across the yard. A stern looking
Glorfindel led them. They would ride back, looking for any who might have
survived the orcs and make sure the foul creatures did not come nearer
Imladris. It wasn�t a large force, but between Glorfindel�s power and the
warriors� skill, they would be able to withstand even a Ringwraith.
A warm, strong hand clasped Erestor�s shoulder. He covered
it with his own cold one, acknowledging the support. Erestor turned his head.
Lindir. He smiled wanly at the minstrel, who was also his lover of many years,
then went to Legolas.
�Come pen-neth, we have arrived.� The weary araumraumatized
elfling didn�t move. �Legolas? Pen-neth? Come, we are safe at last. Let us go
inside.� Gently, he removed the reins from between clenched fingers and pulled
the youth from the saddle. Legolas swayed against him.
Lindir moved toward them. Seeing the white-haired elf
approach, Legolas cringed and tried to crawl inside Erestor�s cloak. The
counselor waved Lindir back, ignoring the look of concern on both his and
Elrond�s faces.
�S�dh, Legolas. Peace.� Erestor soothed the young elf. �None
here shall seek to harm you. We stand in Imladris, before the Last Homely Home,
and Elrond greets us. Come, pen-neth, let us enter and dry ourselves.�
Two elves stepped forward to lead the horses away, but
Legolas put a hand on the bay stallion and leaned his check to the wet,
muscular neck. The stallion reached his muzzle back and lipped at Legolas�
cloak, then shoved the elfling toward shelter. Legolas eyes Elrond and Lindir
warily.
�This is Lord Elrond, master of Imladris, and this is
Lindir, a most skilled minstrel and counselor to our lord.� He laid a hand
reassuringly on Legolas� shoulder. �And this is Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood,
son of Amari�.�
�Welcome Legolas, be at peace in the valley,� Elrond greeted
him and bowed slightly. �We will speak anon, but now, let us go in out of the
rain.�
Erestor took Legolas� arm and guided him inside to the
counselor�s own room, a worried Elrond and Lindir following.
�Now, pen-neth, we need to get you dry and warm lest you
fall ill.�
�And you as well,� Lindir admonished Erestor. �I will have
hot water brought up and food.�
�And my kit from the Healing House if you will,� Elrond
requested, eyeing the slowly fading bruises on Legolas� face and throat. Lindir
nodded and left without another word, closing the door quietly behind him.
�Legolas.� Dull blue eyes turned to Elrond. �I am Lord of Imladris, but I am
also a healer. I would like to examine you and tend your injuries.� The prince
simply continued to regard him blankly. �Legolas?� Elrond looked quizzically at
Erestor.
�Pen-neth,� Erestor stepped forward and laid a gentle hand
on Legolas�s shoulder. �Allow Elrond to see to your injuries.�
Legolas nodded and didn�t protest when Erestor helped him
undress. He stood without moving, although he couldn�t keep from flinching,
while Elrond examined him.
Lindir returned, followed by two elves who bore a vat of
steaming water to warm up that in the bathing tub. Handing Elrond the requested
kit, Lindir busied himself with starting a fire in the hearth. Soon, flames
danced and heat began to push the dampness out of the air. Legolas shivered
despite the warmth. �Bathe, it will warm you, then I will tend your injuries.�
Nearly an hour later, Legolas was warm, dry, fed, and sunk
into an exhausted sleep, tucked into Erestor�s own bed. Wearily, with a last
affectionate touch to Legolas� cheek, Erestor straightened.
A knock at the door announced the return of the two elves
bearing more hot water. �Now, you will tell us what happened,� Elrond commanded
after they left.
�Now, I will bath and dry myself,� Erestor responded firmly.
�And I care not how dark your glare, my lord. If you wish to hear my report,
then sit with me as I bathe for I am nigh chilled through.� He looked at
Legolas� slight form under the covers. �Lindir, will you remain with him? I am
loathe to leave him, but I must warm myself. You shall be able to hear us well
enough.�
�Ai, and I will have more food and a flagon of wine sent up.
Perhaps you should like to eat in front of the fire?� The minstrel gestured to
the hearth where flames snapped merrily.
Erestor nodded. �Thank you, meleth-nin.� Slowly, due to sore
muscles, weariness, and the last fading bruises from his night with Thranduil,
Erestor stripped and moved into the curtained alcove containing a large copper
tub filled with warm water. Sighing blissfully, he sank into the warm depths
and laid his head back on the rim.
Sensing Elrond�s impatience, Erestor allowed himself only a
momentary indulgence before he opened his eyes and looked at his lord. He
sighed deeply. Elrond already had the preliminary report he�d given the border
guards; it was left for Erestor to supply the details. �She refused to flee. I
tried to convince her, but she insisted I was better able to guard the pen-neth
should it come to that. I could not deny that truth. She would not be swayed to
flee with us. It was as if�� He ran his hands through his hair, noting the
snarls and tangles. �She looked for death. I do not know what that foul
miscreant did to her, for she would not speak of it, but it was enough to make
her seek Mandos� Halls. I believe she would have sought release earlier, but
for Legolas. She stayed for him. Thranduil is vile beyond words, my lord. Dark
and twisted and depraved.�
Elrond handed his long time friend a cake of soap. �Much has
been said against Thranduil, yet his people do not rebel. Are these reports not
exaggerated?�
Erestor leaned back, wetting his hair, then sat up and fixed
Elrond with a penetrating stare. �Nay! He is as evil as Sauron!�
Surprised at Erestor�s vehemence, Elrond sat back on the
stool he occupied. �I know you are not hasty, mellon-nin, but Sauron? What has
caused such depth of feeling in you?�
Erestor finished rinsing off and stood, splashing water on
the floor as he grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his hips. Never, he
promised himself again. No one would ever know of what transpired in the King�s
chambers that night. No one would ever know of his humiliation. �You must ask?�
he snapped. �You saw Legolas: the bruises from his sire�s own hand, and those
from his brother on his sire�s command; the ribs that show how he was starved;
how much smaller he is than he should be at his age. You saw, Elrond. How can
you doubt that Thranduil is a monster?�
�I do not doubt this. As you say, I have seen Legolas�
condition. But, he is barely halfway to his majority and just lost his nana,
the only one he trusted. Bruises will fade. Weight can be gained. I worry more
about his mental and emotional state. Those wound will take long to heal, and
he may never be truly free from their memory.�
Erestor sighed gustily. �Ai, that is my fear also. Amari�s
letter asking for help revealed only a fraction of what she and Legolas
endured. She feared to write more lest it fall into the King�s hands. I will
tell you now the words she spoke to me.� He strode back into the main part of
the room followed by Elrond. Erestor paused to run a gentle hand over Legolas�
brow. �The tale is dark.� Gesturing for Elrond and Lindir to join him, he sank
to the floor in front of the hearth. Lindir sat behind him and began combing
the tangles from his wet hair. For several minutes, Erestor was quiet,
gathering his thoughts.
Long after, Erestor finished and silence, broken only by the
cracking and popping of the fire, fell over the room. All three glanced
involuntarily toward the bed where Legolas slept.
�He is safe now. I will raise him as my own,� Elrond
declared. �Amari� was kin of Gil-Galad. I can do no less.�
�As shall I,� Erestor added. �I will honor my vow.�

*lirimaer - lovely one
*mellon-nin � my friend
*pen-neth - young one
*nin bain - my beautiful one
*meleth-nin - my love
*saes - please
- 1
- 2
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Dark Journey

Dark Journey � Part I